So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 66

Once Bianca grew a little older, she always treated Renée like a toy.

No one had ever taught her how—

and yet Bianca’s cruelty rose to a level beyond what an ordinary person could even imagine.

Renée was already small for her age because she never ate well.

Even though Bianca was five years younger, they were about the same size—making Renée the easiest prey imaginable.

“How dare you block my path?”

Just because Renée happened to be at the end of a corridor Bianca was walking through,

Bianca shoved her down the stairs and broke her leg.

“Do you really think a necklace like this belongs on you?
A necklace would shine more at my side than on some pathetic thing like you.”

After stealing the only keepsake Renée had from her mother and wearing it around proudly,

only a few days later, Bianca…

“Ah, I’m bored of it now. I think I’ll just throw it away.”

…pretended—just to taunt her—to toss it into a fireplace where the logs roared with flame.

Inside the pendant was a tiny portrait of Renée’s mother.

It was something Renée treasured more than anything.

“Don’t do that, Bianca. Please… please give it back…”

“Hm? Why are you crying?”

Renée had never once been held in her mother’s arms.

So what was she missing so desperately?

Why did she cling to it like that?

Bianca was genuinely curious.

How deep was that feeling?

And so, in the end, she really did throw the necklace into the fire.

To long for someone you’d never even met, to treasure even a trace of them so much that you’d sob and claw through flames with your bare hands—

where did that kind of love even come from?

“You’ve never even seen your mother’s face. She died the moment she gave birth to you.”

Bianca resembled Marchioness Blanche—her legitimate mother—perfectly.

Both mother and daughter were full of jealousy, and neither had a shred of mercy.

In truth, Renée’s mother—only a maid—would never have had the option to refuse the marquis.

And before Renée was born, House Blanche had struggled to produce heirs.

Renée’s father—then still a young marquis—had confessed the existence of a bastard child to the old marquis.

With no choice, the family agreed to “take her in.”

No matter how lowly the mother was, a child already existed.

They couldn’t simply discard Blanche blood.

But that mercy lasted only until the child—Renée—was born.

Around the time of Renée’s birth, the old marquis died.

And the maid, the moment she delivered the baby, was killed in secret.

Her body was never found.

The story that she “died in childbirth” was, of course, a lie.

No one said it out loud.

But everyone knew.

Renée knew.

Bianca knew.

“And you should call me Lady Bianca. Do you think I’m the same as you, you filthy little rat?”

Bianca still remembered how ridiculous Renée looked—crying and reaching into the fire.

It was a pity she hadn’t been scarred, but Bianca had heard she suffered for months from blistering burns.

If she’d been covered in ugly scars, it would’ve been even funnier to look at her every day.

Bianca regretted that, a little.

The day Renée left for the North,

not a single person wished her well.

House Celeste—the empire’s only grand duchy—

no matter how powerful they were,

House Blanche had placed everything on the new sun: the Empress.

Celeste was a setting sun.

Blanche would be the next house to take that throne.

At least, the current marquis believed it without question.

So he sent Renée away.

To prove loyalty to the Empress—who wanted the engagement to bind the grand duke’s feet—

and to dispose of the household trash at the same time.

For House Blanche, it was a perfect deal.

They’d heard the archduke was as cold as the North itself—

he might even kill an unwanted bride in no time.

Then they would profit without lifting a finger.

Out of the entire family, only one person truly mourned.

Bianca.

“My favorite toy is gone.”

Of course, it didn’t last long.

Maybe five minutes?

But still—sincere was sincere.

Once Renée was gone, Bianca’s bullying naturally shifted to the maids.

With a single word from Bianca, enough servants had been “cut” to fill several wagons.

No one dared blame Bianca.

So they looked for another cause—

and before long, people started believing, quietly, that Renée brought misfortune to the family.

That if Renée hadn’t existed, House Blanche wouldn’t have become so grim.

Even though they all knew Renée had been the one absorbing Bianca’s rage all this time,

they were still shaped by their master’s attitude.

Maybe that was why—

Bianca couldn’t stand the confident Renée she was seeing now.

Back at the marquisate, Renée always stared at the floor,

her small body curled tight like she wanted to disappear.

Her eyes had held resignation, like someone waiting to die.

But now?

“Do you know me?”

Bianca swept Renée from head to toe.

She was no longer a starving skeleton.

She’d gained healthy weight.

Her complexion was better, her expression brighter—she looked like a different person entirely.

And what Bianca couldn’t tolerate most of all—

How is that trash wearing a brand-new dress from Veluá Boutique? I came here myself because it’s expensive.

Lately, Marquis Blanche had become naggy.

He even scolded Bianca—his pampered youngest daughter—and restricted her outings.

Don’t go out. Don’t spend money. Stay locked in the house.

Even the allowance that always flowed to her had been drastically reduced.

But there was a palace ball soon, wasn’t there?

Bianca never wore the same dress twice.

She had to get something new no matter what.

Katharina Hugo—who always took the spotlight—had gone and buried herself in the North.

She wouldn’t be attending this year.

So the new queen of society had to be Bianca Blanche.

And that was why Bianca had snuck out to the boutique in secret—

only to run into Renée wearing the exact dress she’d intended to buy.

Bianca covered her mouth with one hand, putting on a pitiful look.

“Did you really forget your one and only sister? I’m Bianca—your precious little sister.”

Renée’s red eyes trembled violently at the name.

But strangely, there wasn’t even a speck of the fear Renée used to have.

“Little sister?”

The sheer audacity of her—like she was saying, Do I even have a sister?

“Um… are you sure you’ve got the right person?”

Renée scratched her cheek with an awkward smile.

A vein popped on Bianca’s pale forehead.

So this is how you want to play it.

Bianca was confident.

She knew better than anyone what Renée was weak to—

what words hurt her, what expressions crushed her, what gestures made her crumble.

Renée used to tear up the moment Bianca pretended to be fragile.

It would be the same now.

It had to be.

“How could you forget your only little sister? Sister, you’re truly cruel!”

Bianca dramatically covered her face and let out a sniffle.

She was aware of the attention gathering around them.

“Well… about that.”

Renée hesitated, thinking fast—then opened her mouth again.

“I’m sorry. The truth is… I fell off a horse recently, and I lost all my memories.”

Her face was completely stiff as she said it.

Even a three-year-old could tell it was a lie.

“……”

Who did she think she was fooling?

Bianca narrowed her eyes.

So Renée wanted to bury the past.

Not happening.

As if nothing had happened, Bianca erased the pitiful act, snapped open her lace fan, and looked Renée up and down with naked disgust.

“You went to the North and now you think you can play at being a grand duchess? Do you think that’ll erase your filthy bloodline?”

Her voice was low—quiet enough that only someone standing close could hear.

Renée’s eyes widened.

“Huh? No—okay, but… isn’t it a bit much to insult someone’s parents the first time you meet them—”

“What? Cut the nonsense. Don’t change the subject. You ‘lost your memories’? Obviously a lie.”

“Ugh…”

Renée pressed a hand to her chest like she’d been struck.

It was a reaction Bianca had never seen before.

She wasn’t afraid.

She wasn’t crying.

She didn’t look sad or resigned either.

Who… is she?

Bianca had been firing at her nonstop, but that shameless confidence hadn’t budged once.

And as proof—

“Mm. It’s true though. I really did lose my memories.”

Renée decided, apparently, to commit to the lie with full audacity.

Bianca swallowed a laugh and struck back immediately.

“And how am I supposed to believe that?”

“If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

“Y-you— You said you lost your memories! Then why are you talking to me like that?”

“You started talking casually first.”

Hmph.

Renée snorted, shrugged, and met Bianca’s eyes head-on again.